Looking for a Light
by asknotforwhom
Summary: High schooler L has issues getting close to his immature peers, but desperately wants a satisfying relationship. He goes looking for a man- a man who can keep up with him intellectually, and otherwise... AU. Younger L, older Light. SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

Quick author's note before we get started: This is AU, this is slash, and it will involve an older Light and a younger L. I happen to like it this way; if you don't, sorry- find another fic. For those of you who like this sort of thing, welcome! So glad to share my strangeness with you guys. *Giggles* Anyway, read on, and (hopefully) enjoy!

The grounds of L's high school were stunning, both in the almost obsessive perfection of the maintenance and in the mathematical nature of the design itself.

As a younger student, L had noticed the complex, blocky patterns and certain overarching color schemes. As he was, by nature, an incredibly curious young man, he sought out answers. After days of looking, he was able to find one of the many groundskeepers- who seemed to have the uncanny ability to remain completely out of sight at almost all times- to ask about the design and its inspiration. The groundskeeper informed him- rather gruffly, he thought- that the grounds were inspired by the AES, the encryption protocol that governs world-wide banking interactions. L found it most interesting because it was a symmetric key algorithm, meaning it used the same key for decryption and encryption of information. When asked why the AES was chosen as the inspiration, the groundskeeper was less helpful. "Dunno," he said, "No one ever really covered that bit with me. I guess they didn't think knowin' all that was important for me ta' do my job."

The groundskeeper's displeased and suspicious expression made it clear that he didn't think it was important enough for L to have asked, either. He got a similar reaction from his small group of "friends" when he excitedly shared the information with them; blank stares and utter disinterest. He didn't know why he was surprised; he'd been getting the exact same reaction for as long as he could recall, which was a rather long while- his earliest memory was of himself as a two year old.

Any time he chose to speak about the things that really interested and captivated him, the people his age met him with ignorance, and sometimes even mockery.

So, he tried not to do that.

He tried very hard to blend in; he dressed properly and sat up straight, he walked to and from his classes in shoes- though he took off the blasted things as soon as he got in the classroom- and he even "hung out" with the people who were in his higher level classes occasionally, though truthfully, the small group of "friends" he had he had out of obligation; to walk about completely unattended would encourage bullying and possibly assault from one of the many who hated him for being consistently right and consistently spectacular in his academic performance.

Plus, though he was loathe to admit it outside of the confines of his mind, he was lonely. Lonely and bored. Lonely without some sort of human contact, bored by the contact provided by those around him. He ached for someone- someone challenging, someone gifted, someone brilliant and successful.

He would also ask that they be devastatingly handsome and willing to satisfy his rather- abundant- sexual desires.

Yes, L was capable of feeling desire. And he did feel it. Rather intensely, he might add.

But, try as he might, his desires could not be satisfied by those around him, or even a college man.

"College _boy_," he revised, with all the levity of retrospect. L had tried people his own age exactly twice, and then tried college aged males exactly twice more.

All four occurrences were massive, disgusting failures- failures that had forced him to step back and address what he wanted from a relationship, and where he was most likely to find it. What was he attracted to? What did he need out of a partner?

First, most obviously, was intellectual capability. Even a beautiful idiot is an idiot, and L refused to be stuck with someone who wouldn't understand the things that interested him. He wanted to be able to talk about everything; Dostoyevsky, the economy, Rachmaninoff, modern democracy. He needed someone who was on his level.

Secondly, he needed someone who was self aware- someone who knew themselves completely, what they needed, what they wanted out of life, what they would want out of L. He'd watched relationships collapse because of a lack of this awareness before, and he would have rather have given up on relationships completely than have his own relationship fail because of that.

There were more things he wanted them to have or be, obviously; a sense of humor, the drive to be successful, a predilection to cuddle.

And then there were the sexual requirements.

Unlike most people his age, L already knew exactly what he needed in that department; he'd refused to subliminate his slightly unorthodox desires. Instead, after the fiascos of relations with people his own age, he faced them head on in order to figure out what they were.

He'd figured out that he was submissive in the bedroom, that he liked it rough, and that he liked his men older and well dressed. That, and the suits and glasses. They did things to him that he did not want to think about while still at school.

He knew that his tastes were unorthodox, and that many wouldn't approve, but who were they to scorn him? He was unorthodox, himself, and he was going to do what he needed to do to find an appropriate- well, satisfying match.

But where did one go to find an older, intelligent man- preferably a fit, sexy one? Certainly not anywhere in his town- there were absolutely no places of intellectual gathering and the local drinking establishments disgusted him.

After he got home and shut himself in his room, the answer practically bludgeoned him in the face.

The internet.

Obviously, the internet would have some sort of meeting place for older men looking for younger partners. So, he pulled out his laptop, settled into bed, and began poking around. Before too long, he happened across a Forbes woman article about something called the "sugar daddy" phenomena- older, successful men paying the way for young women and men to go to college in exchange for a relationship. He didn't want to be a prostitute, though he did worry about how he'd pay for college; hell, he even had trouble accepting gifts from people, so he didn't think that something like that would work.

He kept looking.

But that article kept sticking out in his mind, like his brain had seen its importance and flagged it, like a high-priority email. He could just make an account, and see what kind of responses he got- it was free for the young, after all. If it wasn't what he wanted, he could delete it, after all.

He pulled up the website with shaking hands and made an account, filled out his bio, and posted a picture; he began waiting, waiting for a response, waiting for the right one to pop into his life.

He wouldn't have to wait long.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: I HAVE A STORY FOLLOWER. Oh wow, this is really cool. Because of you, I have written an entire new chapter today. I hope you like it, my friend, because I like you! Just some warnings again; this is slash, this is AU, there will be language, blah blah blah. If you do not want to be exposed to these things, do not read this. If you do, wonderful. Welcome.

As for my update schedule, I write pretty quickly, so you can expect a chapter every few days.

Much love.

**_"Towering genius disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto unexplored."_**

After waiting approximately twelve minutes- during which he inhaled a large slice of cake- he couldn't wait any longer. He shuffled back to his computer, the trusty computer that had bleached his already pale skin even paler, and anxiously pulled up the website. He tapped his fork against his mouth as he waited for the site to boot up his account, and when it did, there was a flashing indicator:

**(3) **_**New**_****_**Messages**_.

Oh. He hadn't exactly expected any responses that quickly, let alone three. He wasn't exactly what people called "traditionally handsome". He had a symmetrical face, yes, and he understood that contributed significantly to one's attractiveness. But he was also absurdly thin, especially considering the amount of sugar he consumed daily. His eyes were large and dark, his skin was the palest he's ever seen on a human in real life, and he also had a mass of thick, dark hair on top of his head that refused to adhere to any semblance of order.

Honestly, he thought he looked vaguely like a hedgehog.

"But," he reminded himself, "not an entirely unpleasant hedgehog. I am very flexible, after all, and I can offer advice about cooking in relation to the sweeter things."

His hand hovered over the "**message open**" button.

"No, no," he muttered chidingly to himself. "Have a bit of self discipline."

He decided he would check his bio page first- for the fourteenth time- to check for any grammatical errors or flaws in his sentence structure that would put people off. There were, of course, none. He had checked and double checked and quadruple checked everything.

So, of course, he began to read everything again.

In the interest section, he had put:

**_Theoretical physics, classic Russian literature, designer neckties, opera, and pastry making are all passions I indulge, along with a long list of others. This list is available upon request, of course, but I did not include it here in order to save space and the time of those reading this._**

In the "about you" section, he'd written:

**_I am currently a high school student. I will attend Princeton, Yale, or possibly Brown upon my graduation. I am motivated and I enjoy primarily intellectual pursuits, but I do have a lighter side; I enjoy British television comedy, particularly The Mighty Boosh, travelling- particularly trying new varieties of desserts, and watching movies. _**

Those two hadn't been massively difficult; he'd really only worried about not making himself sound like a robot. People often told him that he both wrote and spoke like one. Although he thought they were wrong, and only thought that because they hadn't been properly exposed to proper grammar, he'd worried about it anyway, but not very intently. It was the third section that had forced him to sit and think intently; it was a section asking:

**_What would you like in a partner?_**

It had been written in small, densely bolded letters like it was meant to be heavy and threatening. He'd already thought about this, intently and in detail, but how was he supposed to type it in such a way that it was not only artful and non-threatening, in addition to conveying his needs? How much could he say without being overtly sexual?

His first draft had been written as thus:

**_I am looking for an individual as passionate about intellectual affairs as I am, but they must also be passionate about carnal sex, occasionally with some elements of roleplay and/or bondage. _**

That was nixed for obvious reasons. Too scary. Besides, he could discuss bedroom preferences with them in their early correspondences, to see if they were compatible.

Next draft:

**_I am looking for someone who is willing to spend large amounts of time discussing books, foreign affairs, and other intellectual pursuits with me. _**

He stopped there. It wasn't right; it was too dry- it completely danced around everything he needed in a partner. He sighed, and hit the backspace button until there was once again nothing but a blank text box and a blinking cursor.

Third draft:

**_I am looking for someone with similar interests- I want to be able to go from discussing organic chemistry to watching a relatively mind numbing action flick with them. Honesty, directness of communication and a mutual drive for success in life is important. I would like to have someone who knows exactly what they want- not only out of themselves, but out of our interaction. I appreciate depth._**

He was relatively satisfied with that one, and so that had been the one he'd posted roughly seventeen minutes ago now, including the time it had taken him to re-re-re-re-read everything after his slice of cake.

He was finally ready to open the messages.

And so he clicked the flashing "**(3) **_**New**_****_**Messages**_" on the top of his page.

The first one was of very little interest- it was from a man named Matsuda. He came off as a bit brash, and it seemed he had not spellchecked his message prior to sending it. He read it twice, and thoroughly satisfied that Matsuda the high-level television executive was not for him, he sent the poorly spelled message whizzing off to his little internet trashcan.

The second one was from a man named Teru Mikami. This one had no immediately visible grammatical or spelling errors, and so he read it through. It seemed that Mikami was a wealthy man through an inheritance he'd received as a young man, and he spent his time volunteering with at-risk children to prevent them from becoming criminals.

It would have been really, terribly cute, had L liked children.

As he did not, he sent that one flying into his virtual dumpster, too.

The third one was completely ridiculous, firstly because it was from a blonde, frighteningly perky woman. He'd been sure to select men as his preference to be displayed on his profile. Secondly, it was rife with ALL CAPS PHRASES and lots of SUPER CUTE references to L as a yummy snack "Misa-Misa would just be SOOOOO HAPPY to eat up ;D 3"

L was completely unamused. Had he been able to set the virtual message on fire, he would have done so. As he could not, he settled for stabbing at the mouse rather violently to send it to the garbage.

That marked the end of the messages.

He logged off, exited the browser window, danced to a song, and read eight chapters of IQ84 by Haruki Murakami.

Eleven minutes had passed.

He looked up at the computer sitting on his bed from the corner he was reading in, seemed to lose a staring match with it, and , with an agility one would not have expected from such a tiny creature, leapt onto the bed and pulled the computer into his lap in one fluid movement.

He logged back on.

_**(1) New**_****_**Message.**_

_He adjusted his position on the bed anxiously, arranging the covers around his shoulders and head to create a sort of burrow, and then felt comfortable enough to open the message. _

_It was from someone called Light Yagami. Prior to reading, he clicked on his name so he could view his profile and pictures- he'd learned his lesson after the last few. As soon as it loaded, L inhaled a quick breath and put his face closer to the screen than would have been considered appropriate in any public setting. _

_He was looking at the walking, breathing dream- the perfect example of everything that L had dreamed about in a partner. _

_His cover picture was of him, smiling brilliantly, in a casual sweater and pant ensemble on a boat of some kind. His hair was a lovely, rich caramel, and his eyes were this provocative combination of brown and red that reminded him strongly of a caramel apple when his teeth had scraped away just enough of the caramel so that he could see the delicious red hidden beneath it. He looked to be tall, probably about 6'2 or 6'3, and leanly muscular._

_L's nose hit the screen, and he drew back some before hitting the arrow button to view his next picture. _

_Holy motherfucking shit. _

_He was wearing a suit and glasses. The suit had obviously been cut exclusively for him, as it fit his body better than anything L could imagine aside from nudity. And the glasses fit his face exquisitely, making those eyes look even more suggestive than they had before. _

_He quickly scrolled down to see if the beautiful man's personality and interests could possibly match up with his own. _

_He held his breath while he read. It seemed that Light had studied Chemistry and Comparative Literature during his time as an undergrad, and had then gone on to law school, afterwards earning the highest score on the bar exam in the entire state._

_Holy. Shit. _

_He also enjoyed reading, playing the violin, tennis, watching movies, and keeping up with current events. _

_He switched back to the messages screen with the senseless speed of the hopeful, and opened Light's first correspondence- first of what he hoped would be many. _

_**L,**_

_**I was very pleased to read your profile. I've not run across many listing such varied and interesting intellectual pursuits. This, in conjunction with your frankly intoxicating photos, forced me to send a message to you. We seem to be interested in the same things, and we seem to desire the same things out of a partner. I'd love to correspond with you more in order to determine if we'd be compatible. Just to break the ice a bit, I'll give you a bit of an elaboration on what was in my profile; I'm a patent attorney, and I enjoy my work very much. I find it to be very stimulating- I am constantly forced to look at things in new ways, and I often get to switch subjects. I've learned a lot about completely unrelated things over the years. Speaking of years, I'm 37. (I do apologize, I couldn't think of a wittier way to slide my age elegantly into the stream of this letter.) I am completely unbothered by this gap in our ages, and based on your profile, I'm going to assume you aren't either. If I am incorrect, I'll assume you won't respond. Otherwise, I look forward to hearing from you. **_

_**P.S. I want the full list of your activities as mentioned in your profile. **_

_**Best Regards, **_

_**Light**_

_As he began to feverishly type out a reply, L had both a massive smile on his face and a hard-on between his legs._


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Second update today, I know! All of the really kind reviews and A SECOND STORY FAVORITE really made me want to crank another chapter out. You guys are great. WARNING- this is a sexy chapter. There is sexy talk and naughty behavior. Don't like, don't read- but for those of you that do, enjoy! :D

_**The two enemies of human happiness are pain and boredom.**_

Light Yagami sat in his beautifully appointed office, an irrepressible smile on his face for the first time in quite a long time. Light streamed in from behind him through floor to ceiling windows that gave him stunning city views. If he were to have looked out of his windows at that moment, he would have even been able to see children playing in the park forty-seven stories below- a rare occurrence in a town almost perpetually deluged with rain.

Light, however, did not care. Light did not give one single fuck at that moment, not about the children playing in the park, nor about anything occurring in his lovely high-rise office.

He was being challenged.

It wasn't "challenge" in the sense of a battle between two opponents; it was a challenge which he relished, which he'd craved for ages but had been unable to find in his string of consistently beautiful but mentally deficient lovers.

He had found someone capable of not just keeping up with him, but someone who could even force him to struggle, to really have to think, in order to carry the thread of conversation. He was being challenged to use his mind outside of work for the first time since law school, and he just couldn't get enough- he had never even dared to hope that his foray into the world of this sort of online dating would be even close to this successful.

When he first joined the website, he'd expected to use it to find some blithe, submissive, relatively attractive young man who suited his sexual preferences well enough. He expected that they would have worked out some sort of arrangement, and that would be it; all surface interaction, nothing really stimulating, nothing that would free him of his boredom.

But then he'd happened across L's profile.

The young man was quite striking, obviously. He was diminutive in comparison to Light-which was how Light liked it- and his limbs were long, lean, graceful, and as pale as flawless marble.

So he'd clicked. And then he'd read.

A high school student including classic Russian literature and opera as several of their interests? Very interesting. Even more interesting was the fact that their desires for a partner lined up almost exactly.

Not to mention that face. The young man had some of the most striking features he'd ever seen; a delicacy of mouth and nose combined with massive, dark eyes.

Light could admit to himself, without shame, that he'd spent more time than was healthy fantasizing about those long limbs wrapped around him these past few days.

He adjusted his perfectly cut suit trousers to sit on his erection more comfortably and then leaned forward in his elegant desk chair to see the computer.

Today marked the third day of their email correspondence, all of which had been incredibly enlightening and completely impossible to put down. For example, L , funnily enough, had taken his request seriously, and sent Light the complete list of his activities as he'd requested. Light had been completely charmed to know that L had a predilection to cuddle, an extreme fondness for sweets, and a serious emotional attachment to a cat named Charlie.

Light was not generally charmed. People did not "charm" Light.

But, here was Light, being charmed. He found that, in this situation, he would accept it.

They'd also covered their favorite foods- Light's was Lobster Bisque, and L's was any form of cake and/or pastry that contained fruit filling- and a number of other issues of varying depth; Light knew that L's familial situation was tenuous and that he had difficulty accepting gifts as he felt unworthy, and L knew that Light had been in a string of unsatisfying relationships prior to trying this "online approach".

Having covered most of the tamer issues that would determine their compatibility, they'd begun to cross into more questionable territory.

And Light was very, very eager to do so, hence his slightly excited state in a rather inappropriate location- his workplace.

He blamed L, as the little fucker- his little fucker, he'd decided, communication this extensive was indicative of emotional investment on L's part and thus he was allowed to be possessive if he felt like it- could write one hell of an email. He was pretty sure he had not been that skilled with words or innuendo at his age, or, maybe it was just what Light's admittedly filthy mind read into it. He didn't really know. What he did know is that his levels of productivity had suffered slightly- he'd continued to respond to L's emails as soon as he read them since their correspondence began.

He sighed. Well, he'd already made partner, and even with his distraction his was putting in an immense amount of work. He shrugged mentally and opened the newest email from L.

_**Light,**_

_**I am honestly unsurprised by your preference for Murakami over Palahniuk; while I do enjoy Palahniuk's work, Murakami's has an immense amount of psychological complexity that is deeper and more compelling.**_

_**From that, there isn't really any elegant way to segue into a description of my sexual preferences, so instead I'll be completely frank in outlining my preferences, needs, and quirks. **_

_**What I really want, sexually, is someone dominant. I like the aggression, the fire, and the loss of control that comes with that. I really like rough sex- I prefer there to be hands in my hair and teeth on my neck. I-**_

_At this point, Light stood up, walked to the front of his office, and closed the blinds on the glass walls facing into the hallway of the office. He wasn't particularly sure how adequately he could control himself when he was picturing himself locked in every scene L described wanting and needing, especially considering that these were things he wanted himself. He reseated himself behind his large desk. He made for a rather suggestive picture; his eyes were dark and heavily lidded behind his glasses and his suit, as finely fitted as it was, outlined rather prominently the bulge straining against his pants. He settled in as comfortably as he could and continued reading. _

_**I want sex that exhausts me- I want to be pushed to the brink for as long as possible. I want to be made to beg.**_

_"Holy fuck," muttered Light half coherently. He scrolled with one hand and stroked himself through his pants with the other._

_**I like giving oral, being tied up, and being teased. I am open to trying new things within the limits of reason-**_

_Light immediately pictured L on his knees with his lovely little hands tied behind his back._

_**And I am a very, very big fan of dirty talk. **_

_"Oh, are you now?" rasped Light. He thought of several ways he could make that happen for L, and his eyes darkened even more._

_**As for the last bit, you also requested that I outline any serious fantasies I have, so you could determine more accurately the sort of things I would enjoy. I don't really know why you thought I'd mind- I've already shared rather intimate personal details with you, and if things continue to go as they are-**_

_"I will be fucking you until you lose all semblance of control and any desire to be with other men very soon," finished Light mentally. Well, so much for going into this with his wits about him. He was already hooked._

_**First, before I explain my fantasy fully, I have to tell you that I have a serious, serious thing for men in suits and glasses.**_

_Light smirked. He would have to send him pictures.._

_**So the fantasy is an office related one. **_

_Light immediately stopped smirking._

_**I'm under the desk with my mouth on the cock of the- well, it's pretty obvious that you would be the other participant in this fantasy, so I am going to use the much less unwieldy "you". Hopefully this does not make you feel uncomfortable.**_

_The only thing making him uncomfortable would be the almost painfully hard erection he was sporting._

_**So I'm under your desk, with my mouth and hands on your cock. I come into the office after all of your subordinates and coworkers leave, so there isn't really much chance of us being caught. I'm in the process of sliding you into my throat when, out of nowhere, a coworker pops in. I freeze. He can't see me, as I'm completely covered by your desk. So you begin to carry on a conversation with him.**_

_At that point, Light realized there was not going to be any holding out. He unzipped his pants and took off his suit jacket as quickly as possible, then took himself in hand. _

_**While you're talking to him, you slide one hand into my hair and begin to guide me up and down very subtly, so he can't tell. **_

_"Holy shit." Light moaned. L was had a dirty, dirty mind, and he loved it. He leaned back and began to fuck his hand in earnest, sliding the rigid length up and down in his hand, imagining a silken tongue and impossibly dark eyes in its place. _

_**The conversation is dragging on for ages, so I begin to get a bit- creative- with my tongue, dragging it from the base of your cock right up to the underside of your sensitive head. Your knee jerks and hits the top of the desk, but you cover smoothly, telling the coworker you have an important conference call to take. He says his goodbyes and tells you that he's leaving. **_

_Light closed his eyes and sped up his pace for a moment, imagining punishing that hot mouth for teasing him when he couldn't do anything about it. _

_**You wouldn't leave that sort of thing unpunished, so, as soon as you hear the ding of the elevator doors closing, you pull me out from under the desk, stand up, and begin to fuck my mouth in earnest, telling me just how hard that made you.**_

_He didn't know how much longer he'd last; he'd been half hard all day. _

_**When you don't think I'm going to last much longer, you decide to finish in me, with me bent over your desk. **_

_He sure as fuck would finish in him on the desk._

_**You prepare me quickly, and then take me hard, until I'm incoherent and limp with pleasure- you make me wait to cum until you tell me I can, and when you do, I cum hard. **_

_The very idea__ of being in control of L, being in charge of him, of making him senseless with pleasure, of __owning __him ended it for Light. His back tensed and his hand sped up. He ached for a milky white shoulder to bite into as he came. _

_**Afterwards, we clean up a little and then go see a Puccini opera.**_

_Light laughed tiredly. That was probably the best post-coitus idea ever for the two of them. He cleaned himself up- more than a little- and types out a response:_

_**L,**_

_**There isn't really much to say, other than that I want the exact same things you want. I want you under me. I want to be rough with you and make you feel like you belong to me. I want to experience everything you've described- most preferably with you. In my opinion, we are completely compatible in every area we've discussed. I want you exclusively. We should discuss how you feel this should work.**_

_**P.S. I came reading your lovely office fantasy. **_

_**P.P.S. Suits and glasses are my everyday attire- I hope the attached picture does to you what your little story did to me. **_

_**Looking forward to hearing from you,**_

_**Light**_

_And Light continued corresponding with L for the remainder of the day._


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: All of you lovely reviewers, story favoriters, alerters, and even you silent readers have made writing this such a pleasure; I've loved hearing from you, and I am very excited to see what you have to say as we move forward. This chapter is for PrimeLaughter, who provided me with a very kind review.

AP classes are Advanced or college level classes, for those who don't know.

Enjoy! :)

**What the world needs is more geniuses with humility; there are so few of us left.**

L sat in his college level course on U.S. History with a decidedly bland expression on his face. He didn't really need to be in the class- he'd read the textbook within the first week and intended to do so again prior to taking his exam. He sighed. Regardless of whether or not he actually needed to be there, he was there, and was required to be there for the remainder of the year. He shifted in his seat in order to view the clock.

Exactly twenty-nine minutes until he'd be leaving to spend the day with Light.

They'd been communicating non-stop for weeks, now, and had switched to texting for convenience. They'd continued to learn more about each other, sharing things they would have never considered sharing with anyone else.

L felt a sort of buoyancy, a fluttering in his chest that he had never felt before.

He had never felt this sort of understanding with another human being before.

His childhood had been horrendous; the other children had alienated him, mocked him, and on some occasions even assaulted him. His parents weren't much better. So, he'd retreated into a life of books and observation, watching and learning for a time when he would have people to talk to. Over the years, people stopped mocking him openly- this happened roughly around the same time that they realized that he'd be willing to help them with their homework when they refrained from being awful to him. He'd even managed to cultivate a few friends, of sorts. Even in high school, though, it was obvious to L and to everyone else that he did not quite fit. People spoke to him, but not as freely as they would to their other peers- peers that also cared about who had attended Aiber's parties, and about what cars everyone was driving.

Until he'd began talking to Light, he'd been infinitely frustrated with himself for even feeling lonely; he did not want what his peers had with each other in their ridiculously superficial relationships, and he definitely did not want it with any of them, especially after having tried and failed with his peers twice before.

But now he understood. After discovering what it felt like to feel completely understood and accepted by an individual such as Light, he had immense difficulty imagining himself retreating back into his head, away from the company of an (incredibly) attractive like-minded individual.

He huffed slightly. What time was it? Time had begun to drag very perceptively and-

Speak- or think, rather- of the devil. Aiber had materialized beside his desk, and had apparently been waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.

When he'd looked at him, Aiber smiled slowly, much like how one would imagine a cat smiling, if it were to smile at its prey with all of its teeth.

"May I help you, Aiber?" L had an eyebrow raised to skewer him, but the intensity of his glare was lost slightly due to the fact that he kept trying to see around Aiber's muscular torso to the clock on the far wall. When L realized that Aiber intended to remain in front of the clock, he stopped trying to see it and merely sighed. He assumed Aiber would not leave until he had gotten whatever it was that he wanted. Wouldn't he just leave?

Aiber's grin, still wide and predatorial, assured L that the answer would be no.

"Well, L," began Aiber, "I just wanted to ask you about your notes for AP English, to see if I might be able to look at them, but you've been thinking a hole into the wall for the last ten minutes. So then I decided to stand here and see just how long you'd take to notice me."

L rolled his eyes internally, but managed to reign his sarcasm in enough to deliver a mere scorching deadpan.

"You were in class today, Aiber. What could you conceivably need the notes for?"

"It took you six minutes to notice," said Aiber. The way he managed to inject both stupidity and juvenile humor into his voice really made L want to run head first into a wall until his scull concaved. "Just, yanno, in case you were wondering. What are you thinking about?"

L turned to really look at him. Aiber did not ask any questions outside the sphere of slight mockery or academics. He'd been opening his mouth to respond when he felt a buzzing against his thigh and an accompanying swell of joy high in his throat; that buzz meant Light had landed safely in the local airport.

He'd flown in on a private jet.

When L had included "preferably successful" on his profile, he had not meant that he needed someone who was wealthy, but Light surely was.

L did not have any designs on Light's money, but he could certainly appreciate the fact that Light's money made it rather easy and convenient for them to meet.

As L was excitedly rifling in his pocket for his cell phone, Aiber made a small "hmmph" noise in his throat. When L looked up at him questioningly he found Aiber's eyes looking at him the same way.

"Now who could that text be from? You don't usually text," said Aiber. L's brow furrowed. He had not noted Aiber watching him more closely than anyone else did. Aiber continued on with his questioning. "And here are you going today? I saw you give Mr. Rester that note at the beginning of class."

L paused before answering. He hoped that pause had given Aiber time to see just how little right he had to be asking him those questions. He realized it had not, as Aiber's facial expression did not crumple in the slightest. He sighed internally, then soldiered on with the same lie he'd written on the note to his teacher and would tell anyone who asked the following day.

"Not that it's any of your business, Aiber, but I have a doctor's appointment this morning."

He leaned around Aiber, who had finally moved to the side enough for him to see the clock.

"In about seventeen minutes, in fact." L looked at Aiber with a complete lack of expression that he hoped belied his disinterest in continuing the conversation. Aiber just looked at him like a kicked puppy.

"Fine," Aiber said sulkily. "I'll see you in AP Government fourth period."

He then walked casually back to his seat and picked up the thread of conversation of those around him more easily and naturally than L could properly comprehend. L shook his head, and turned back to his computer to compile more notes for the project they were working on when he remembered that he hadn't yet replied to Light's text message. His long fingered hands quickly found his phone again. He opened the message.

**L, just arrived at the airport. Picking up the rental car now- I'll be there in about ten minutes. Incredibly excited to finally see you in person. **

L suppressed his answering grin, and typed out a response.

**It's mutual- time has slowed down rather profoundly all morning. I'm checking out of school now; see you shortly. **

He stood up abruptly, collected his things, returned his computer to the cubby it belonged in and walked out of the classroom. He'd already given his "parent note" to both his teacher and the attendance woman, so he was able to slip out of school without question. Not that he wouldn't have been able to without a note; in direct contrast to the student body's uneasy acceptance of L, every single teacher and administrator in his school loved him, and basically let him do as he pleased.

Oh, the benefits of being a higher level student.

He walked out of the main building and down onto the main road, which was never very busy. It was a grey day, but he was rather fond of grey days, so it did nothing to damper his mood. He was walking down the sidewalk to get to the Burger King close to his school- it was where he'd told Light to pick him up. While it was a strange place to meet a potential lover for the first time, he'd felt that allowing Light to pick him up at school would invite both uncomfortable attention and unwanted questions.

So he'd chosen the Burger King.

Once he'd finally gotten there, he dashed off to the bathroom to evaluate his reflection in the mirror. He'd agonized over an outfit all morning, and some of the night- although being awake at those times was not particularly unusual for him and his monster case of insomnia- but had finally settled on an ensemble involving a pair of black corduroys, neatly cuffed at the ankle, a crisp white button-up shirt, and a lovely blue wool sweater. He also fiddled with his hair some, but he knew that was a lost cause. His incredibly thick hair would do nothing other than exactly what it pleased at all times.

He fiddled anyway, until his leg vibrated- once, twice, three times. He pulled the phone out of his pocket with incredible speed to answer the call.

"Hello?" L answered with what he hoped was a reasonably steady voice.

"Hey, L, I'm here- come on out."

L felt an indescribable rush of joy, exhilaration, and also some fear. He hoped he measured up to what Light wanted in person.

He walked out of the bathroom, past Burger King's elderly morning patrons, and into the slight chill of the February morning.

He was met with a view that caught his breath in his throat; the man from the pictures and texts, here in front of him, all lean muscle and caramel apple eyes.

When he remembered how to use his legs, L began to walk towards Light.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Okay you guys, I just want to tell you that you are spectacular. Every time I open my ff account to find a new review, new favorite, or I see that my view count has gone up-by the way, this story has only been up FOUR DAYS and you've already gotten it up close to four-hundred views- I feel inspired to keep writing this stuff for you. I hope you like it- this chapter is for you recent reviewers and favoriters. You guys are the best. **

**As for story related notes, I just think it important to note that L has some relatively serious issues in his past as well as at home, and it's addressed very briefly in this chapter. We'll probably see more of that as the story goes on- I don't really know, as I don't have an outline (It's hard to outline when you're writing a chapter a day!). Also, I wanted to note that I don't have a beta, so if you see any mistakes, please feel free to let me know in a review. I'm very open to creative criticism. **

**Enjoy!**

**"Denial will not save you when Cupid's arrow find its mark."**

L's stomach was fluttering abnormally. It made it rather difficult to walk forward at a normal speed, as he would have normally. Instead, he felt the strange urge to run wildly to Light before jumping into his arms.

L internally shook his head at himself and continued striding forward at a speed as close to normal as he could manage, his eyes never once leaving Light.

Light stood beside the rented car in a white button-up shirt, a maroon fitted sweater, artfully faded jeans, and loafers. As if that weren't enough, L also noticed that the other man had a few streaks of grey in his blonde hair.

He didn't particularly care that he should not have found graying hair attractive anymore.

As he closed the gap between them, Light's face cracked into a beaming, resplendent smile. L couldn't help but walk a bit faster then, and only stopped with a foot or two between them. He didn't really know how to proceed; would Light be okay with displays of public affection? L thought that it may provoke some uncomfortable questions. He wondered how many times he'd have to go out of his way to avoid "uncomfortable questions" if the relationship worked out like he wanted it to. What if his parents found out prior to him turning eighteen? While it was perfectly legal in his state, as the age of consent was sixteen- he'd checked- he still had a full year until he could leave the hell hole that was his home. Clearly, he and Light would have a lot to talk about.

But not just then, as Light silenced his internal musings by sweeping an arm around him for a quick, strong hug.

"Hey," Light half whispered. His beaming smile had dimmed to something softer and more intimate as he opened the door to the backseat of the rented car. He took L's bookbag from him and sat it in the floorboard. Shutting the door, he put a hand in the small of L's back and led him around to the passenger side of the car.

"Honestly, I'm so excited to see you in person I can hardly think properly," Light said as he opened L's door. L slid in and began to buckle himself in before responding. "Yeah, definitely. It's exhilarating and nerve-wracking and I am completely tongue tied." Light looked at him for a moment before shutting his door and coming around to the driver's side. He slid in gracefully and turned to face L, then began to rifle in his pocket. L said nothing. He wasn't particularly sure what Light was doing, until he pulled out his license and his business card.

"Okay," began Light. "You sent me a picture of your license to show me that you were who and how old you said you were, so I think it only appropriate that I do you the same courtesy." He handed both cards to L, who looked at them with only minor interest- prior to really beginning to talk to Light, he'd done a rather thorough Google search and a search through public records of criminal charges. Of course, Light was squeaky clean.

"Light, I'm not all that worried. I know you are who you say you are." L took a breath, smiled slightly, and continued. "I trust you." A brief pause, then, as L allowed Light to process that little tidbit of information; L had conveyed to them in earlier conversation just how hard his trust was to come by. "Now, where are we spending our day?"

It turned out that Light had chosen a lovely little café for them to eat in. As it was about thirty minutes away, they had plenty of time to chat on the drive. They talked about L's plans for after high school, where he would apply to college, and eventually, the subject of his SAT came up. L told him that he'd taken the practice sat when it was provided to everyone, but, as of yet, he'd been unable to take it. Light looked puzzled.

"But why wouldn't you be able to take it?" Light asked. L hesitated to answer; he'd mentioned that the situation with his parents was rather tenuous, but they hadn't gotten into many specifics in that particular area of his life. He just hadn't wanted to scare Light off, and L knew that too much baggage could do that. He'd already divulged many intimate details of his painful past with Light- details that he would have never been willing to share with anyone else. How much more would Light be willing to put up with?

L had to admit that he was already incredibly fond of Light. More fond of Light than he was comfortable admitting to himself. He knew that he was indescribably lucky to have found someone who he was so comfortable with, someone who he could interact with so naturally. They understood each other, and L never felt like they were existing on completely different levels, like he did when he interacted with his peers.

L knew that Light might never love him, but he certainly didn't want to lose out on an opportunity to be happy, even if it was for a brief time. L would take what Light was willing to give him.

In reference to the SAT issue, he would have to say something, and he didn't want to lie. He settled on the method of delivering the truth, but trying to downplay its importance.

"Well," started L. "My mother isn't exactly the most.. supportive individual in the world. She gets a bit frustrated when I ask her to do things for me, and generally just refuses to do them. It's not a big deal- it just means that I have to find ways around that."

Light was silent for a moment, and so L turned to look through the windshield at the blurring landscape of grey and green. The concrete and asphalt were wet from a light rain that morning, and the skies were as grey as they had been on his walk to the Burger King.

Light slipped his right hand around L's left, and squeezed.

"L," Light started. "I know you have a bit of an issue accepting gifts-" On that, Light looked over to L's face. L felt as if he were preparing to bore into his soul whatever piece of information he was about to deliver. "But I want to pay for your SAT's." Before L could open his mouth to demurely- if hastily- decline, Light continued. "It really isn't a large amount of money, L. It's only seventy dollars or so, and this is something I would really appreciate you letting me do. You need to take the test anyway- it'll take stress off of us both, as I'll know you're taken care of in that regard and you won't have to go looking for ways to pay for it. Okay?"

L felt a peculiar tightness in his throat and a slight stinging in his eyes.

He just nodded.

"Okay," said Light. "Great. You can give me your login or something later." Light squeezed his hand again, and they talked about their favorite classical music composers until they got to Turandot's.

Turandot's was relatively far from L's high school in the nearest large city. It was a very busy coffee shop-cum-café with mannequin heads and other eccentric pieces as décor, a killer pastry selection, and an infamously hipster clientele. After they found a parking spot, L and Light went inside. It was much busier than L had expected- even at ten a.m. on a Tuesday afternoon they had to look for a table, but, luckily, they got a great one. L nibbled on a fruit-filled scone and watched Light use his French-press to make his coffee in the beautiful light provided by the window beside of their table. When they continued talking, it was as natural and enjoyable as it had been in all of the emails and texts. They floated easily from topic to topic, flitting from the economy to the state of the job market to the nature and moral implications of designer fakes and back again.

It excited L so much he thought he'd forget to breathe.

This was exactly what he'd craved for ages.

Even though the subjects remained decidedly clean, eyes began to trail, and L could feel the tension rising between them.

He realized that he would rather like to break it. Preferably as soon as possible.

L hitched an eyebrow and smiled slightly before asking Light what was possibly the most cliché, overused sexual invitation in the world:

"Would you like to get out of here?

Light returned his smile, let his eyes flash with promise, and stood to shrug his sweater on.


	6. Chapter 6

_**A**_**uthor's note: I LOVE hearing from you guys. Thank you so much for reading and providing me with the inspiration to keep writing. **

_**He that lives upon hope will die fasting.**_

Not long after Light shrugged on his sweater they were out the door of Turandot's. Neither Light nor L spoke a word on the seemingly endless venture through the crowded parking lot, but every few seconds their eyes would meet, and fuck all if the tension wasn't completely palpable, a living, breathing thing trying to eat L and his usually notable self-control alive. Light was stalking through the parked cars like a predator, eyes slightly narrowed, as if the car was trying to hide from them in order to prevent anything good from happening.

Just before L would have broken down and begged Light to just take him then, perhaps pressed against the car of one of Turandot's hipster patrons, Light clicked the unlock button on his rented key fob.

Thank the lord.

Light walked, deceptively calm, to the passenger side of the car and opened L's door. After shutting it, he walked with the same calm to his own door and let himself in.

As soon as the door shut, he turned to L, put one hand behind his slim neck, and drew him forward. L responded by sliding a slim hand into Light's sexy, graying hair. He didn't have time to do much else before Light pressed forward and kissed him more deeply than he had ever been kissed before.

It felt like Light was trying to taste his soul, and it was the most arousing thing L had ever experienced.

Light held him in place as he tasted, plundered, and erotically skimmed every crevice of L's mouth with a tongue tasting of coffee, and noises were being drawn out of L that he had no idea he'd even been capable of making.

Light pulled back, and L would have complained rather bitterly, had Light not slid the hand that had been kneading the back of his neck into his hair, and allowed that talented fucking tongue to make rounds on his neck.

L had been half hard the entire time they'd been sitting in Turandot's. Now, he was sporting the most intense erection he'd ever had in the company of another human being.

The memories of pathetic fumbling led by idiot exes faded from his mind, and L knew that they would never come back, nor would they ever regain importance in his mind.

He was making new memories. Infinitely better ones, with someone infinitely better suited to him.

L then used the hand that had been sitting benignly in Light's hair to drag him up, so he could taste that coffee flavored tongue again.

Light liked that. Quite a bit. He responded to L's passion with as much of his own, sliding his hands into L's hair, allowing them to skim over his face, letting them drift over his shoulders.

Light was everywhere on him, and then, suddenly, was nowhere.

L frowned and opened his eyes.

Light's body was no longer close to him, hanging over the console, but was back in the driver's seat. His eyes, however, still devoured L with a ravenous hunger belying the man's thoughts and desires.

"L." Light's voice was rough, heavily laden with sex. L's toes curled in his uncomfortable shoes. "Much more of that and I am going to fuck you in the back seat of this car."

While L found the thought of being taken in the car very erotic, he wanted plenty of room, and a lack of an audience for what he expected to come.

"There are several hotels closer back to town," L managed. "Take me there."

Light thought it over, looked at L with more promise than he had ever been on the receiving end of, and quickly whipped the car out of the parking lot, almost running over an individual in very tiny pants and very large glasses in the process.

Light continued down the road, unruffled, and grabbed L's hand.

L took the opportunity to fellate Light's fingers.

He lifted their joined hands, disentangled them, and slid Light's pointer finger slowly into his mouth.

Light made an animal noise and looked over at L quickly, before remembering to keep his eyes on the road.

L liked that he could distract the man from something so important. He realized that it was probably irrational to want to do that, as it was dangerous, but he'd never claimed that his sexual desires abided by the same sort of logic as his everyday ones.

So, he began to slide the digit in and out of his mouth, alternating techniques, laving it with his tongue and occasionally scraping it slightly with his teeth.

Light's knuckles on the hand violently gripping the steering wheel were as white as L's skin.

They hit a stop light, and Light immediately withdrew his hand from L's devious mouth before replacing it with his own; this kiss no less intense than the last. Light invaded L's senses completely, making him shudder. He couldn't help but submit completely to such profound stimulus.

There were several honks from behind them, a muttered curse from Light, and then they were moving again. Light's hand crept into his hair again, but this time began to knead and work at the place where his spine met his skull. L melted completely, mewling, eyes fluttering back into his head.

He wondered how Light could just know exactly what parts of him made him do what? How did he know exactly what he needed and wanted?

"Is that natural?" asked Light, looking over at his face intently.

"Wh-what?" L's foggy brain managed to finally put forth.

"Your eyes. They just sort of flutter shut- it's- really arousing. Your eyelashes are so long."

Oh. L hadn't even realized what was happening until Light pointed it out. It didn't usually happen outside of L's private explorations of his own body; he'd just assumed that nobody's touch would be quite as masterful as his own, and yet here Light was, just kneading the base of his skull and L was responding like he'd lost all control. Well, he had lost all control; he had never just _wanted_ so badly before.

L decided that he wanted to see how badly Light wanted him. He reached over and palmed Light's erection through his pants, and decided that Light wanted him rather badly.

Light's response itself would have been rather convincing by itself; he took his free hand to hold the one roaming his lap in place as he groaned, and suggestively rolled his erect cock into it.

L almost came.

"Fuck, I want you so badly," Light grit out through clenched teeth. He looked at the GPS embedded in the dashboard. "It says we've got roughly two minutes until we get to the hotel. I'll need those to compose myself- I think that walking in with a hard on this evident may send the wrong signals to the poor clerks."

L hesitantly withdrew his hand, but, before he could withdraw it completely, Light retrieved it, kissed it, and held it.

L thought that, were his heart to be any warmer, he was liable to spontaneously combust.

They pulled into the drive of the hotel. Light parked by the door, and turned to face L. "I'll be right back, okay? I'm just going to go get us a room." He kissed him briefly on the mouth, opened the car door, and stepped out. L watched him walk inside before beginning to think again.

He pulled out his phone, suddenly afraid that his parents, sensing that something was amiss, had tried to call, or, even worse, had found out he had left school. Upon unlocking his phone, he realized that they had not. He still felt a prominent swell of anxiety in his chest, and began to think of all of the ways that people might find out too soon.

He did not want this to be taken away from him.

Apart from what L sensed would be a massively satisfying sexual relationship, he also felt completely comfortable talking to Light. He hadn't reacted adversely to anything L had told him about himself, including the things that generally warned people away from him.

In the spirit of full disclosure, L had told Light about his sexual assault.

L knew some people weren't willing to be with anyone who had had that happen, so he thought it only courteous to give him the option to get out.

Light did not try to get out.

L had been immensely surprised, and also gratified to whatever deity had been willing to let him keep Light.

He wasn't used to getting to keep the things he wanted, or, really, even the things he needed, so it felt like a major victory of some kind; Light was all of the things L had determined he needed in a relationship.

L put his phone away and smiled.

He had Light right now, and he was going to enjoy it.

L was startled out of his thoughts by Light opening the door and slipping into the driver's seat. He tossed the little packet with the key cards into L's lap, and smiled. He then drove them around to the parking lot. They slipped in the back entrance, and walked- sides touching- to the elevator.

As soon as the doors opened, L found himself pressed against the wall. He groped for the "2" button blindly, as Light had his tongue in his mouth.

L smiled, wanting desperately to have the luxury to get used to the stimuli.

He finally acknowledged the hope growing in his chest- the hope that Light would want to keep him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's note: Finally, the sex. Usually I'm busy on weekends, otherwise, I'll update reliably every one or two days. I own nothing, yada yada. Please enjoy- up to over a thousand views! Wow. It is kind of mind boggling. I see you new favoriters and story alerters, too, and I'm so glad you're all here! I'm writing for you guys.**

The ding of the elevator was startling and abrupt.

Light pulled back from L, looking at him intently. His lust could not completely override the questions running rampant in his head, round and round, refusing to retreat into the hazy mist in which the rest of his logical thought had already disappeared.

Did L feel what he was feeling right now?

Had L felt the same insistent tug of emotion when they finally spoke to each other in person?

Did L- could L- possibl-

Well, one thing for sure, L was certainly ready to consummate their relationship. He had walked out of the elevator, jarring Light rather suddenly out of his internal monologue. The younger man had presumably gone to find their room.

Light followed, exiting the elevator just before the doors slid shut again. He walked slowly, watching L scan the numbers on the doors.

The dull hum of the maids doing midday vacuuming down the hall could not distract Light from the pale, appetizing curve of L's neck. He slid the door card from its sleeve and handed it to L. L waved it in front of the card reader several times, making a small, frustrated noise in the back of his throat when it wouldn't read right away.

Light's cock responded to that noise immediately, and his mind conjured up several rather vivid ways in which Light could draw that sound from L's mouth again. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, wanting to maintain at least a fraction of self control for when the door opened. He knew that as soon as it did, he'd want to strip L and fuck him ten ways to Sunday; but there would be time for that down the road.

This time, this _first_ time, was very, very important.

Not because it was L's first time- he'd had others- but because it was their first time.

He wanted to wipe every memory of every touch, every kiss, and every sub-par fuck everyone else had ever given him with a barrage of foreplay, mind-boggling position changes, and other assorted sexual feats unimaginable to L.

He wanted to be the only one L thought about when he touched himself, when he thought about his sexual experiences, and thus he would use every skill in his arsenal to achieve this aim.

L swiped the card again, this time finding success. He stepped into the room and looked around, with Light just a step behind him. Light watched the younger man shrug off his sweater, his eyes darkening at the way the collar of his button up slid over to the right as he did it, revealing a patch of delicate ivory shoulder.

The room itself was nice, but nondescript- Light hadn't asked for anything specific.

Light shrugged off his sweater as L had, feeling the heat of L's gaze on his back as he draped it carefully over the desk chair.

He turned, and met L's eyes.

L was sitting on the edge of the bed, hair already mussed, eyes heavily lidded, looking for all the world like something out of Light's fantasies. Through the tight black corduroys, Light could see the outline of the hard-on he'd caused, and felt a roar of possessive emotion rise in his throat.

Light wanted L completely, and Light did not want to share.

He stepped towards L, placing his hands on either side of L on the bed to crush their mouths together. L wrapped his arms around Light's neck to deepen the kiss, and a leg around Light's hip to bring him closer.

Light liked that- Light liked that quite a bit.

He slid his hands under an unsuspecting L's ass and picked him up.

L moaned and rolled his hips forward, causing a heavy wave of sensation to hit Light like a motherfucking title wave. His hands, still full of L's ass, squeezed, as his tongue quested further, harder, deeper, into the candy-like cavern that was L's mouth.

L's eyes flashed open in response to Light's rough touch. He pulled back, smiled, and began to climb down from Light's arms.

He'd been put out at being deprived of contact until L slid, smirking, to his knees.

Holy fuck.

The sight of L on his knees, a coquettish smirk on his lips, nearly unmanned Light. All the more so when L began to slide his hands up his legs, grazing his hard cock, and finally settled at his fly.

Light watched L bite his lip, and observed the young man's already huge pupils expand even further before he felt like he was going to lose it. He covered L's hands with his own and helped him undo the button and slide down the zip.

L pulled down Light's pants on his own, making a tiny, desirous noise in his throat when he finally say what he'd been aching for all day. Light was wearing a pair of white boxer-briefs that highlighted absurdly toned thighs and a rock hard erection, steadily leaking pre-cum. He leaned forward to put his mouth on it.

Light's mind went completely blank as L laved his cock through his briefs. From this angle, he could only see L's suggestively mussed hair and, intermittently, his pretty pink tongue, popping out to lick and tease. L sucked the head through the now completely wet material, and Light groaned loudly, sliding his hands into L's hair.

L responded by looking up into Light's face, smiling, and pulling Light's cock out of his briefs before completely taking it into his throat.

Light's spectacular thighs clenched, and his cock twitched, but he did not cum.

He slid his cock from L's sinful mouth, counted to ten, and pulled him to his feet before stripping him completely.

The younger man was beautiful. He was incredibly slim, delicately featured, and his ivory skin flushed in an indescribably delectable way. Light loved that. Light loved the way that he laughed, Light loved the way that his eyes fluttered shut when he was overloaded with pleasure, Light loved the way that he moved his hands as he spoke.

Light loved him.

It was completely ridiculous, but he did; he'd known as soon as he saw him for the first time, after what felt like an eternity of lovely, fulfilling conversation, and every single moment after that only reaffirmed it.

Light was in love, and he was happy to be that way. Was it what he'd expected when he'd made an account on that site? Absolutely not. Would he go back? Fuck no.

He was going to let L feel just how much this meant.

Light stood back slightly and began to unbutton his shirt. When it was completely undone, he let it slide to the floor. He toed off his loafers and finished slipping off his pants and briefs, setting them all aside, so the space could belong completely to him and L.

When Light turned around, he realized that L had been watching him move about hungrily.

With that, he was completely undone. He took the few steps it took to cross to L and pushed him back onto the bed, devouring his mouth, allowing his own hungry hands to explore the pale, flushed flesh beneath him. He pulled back to slide in between L's legs, and then went to work on the column of L's neck, using teeth, tongue, and litanies of filthy words to drive him insane.

"You know, from the moment we sat down at that table in the café, I was half fucking hard for you, you know that?" grit out Light. "Every time you'd look at me from under those lashes or bite that fucking lip my cock would ache. It feels like I've wanted this for an eternity."

L moaned and tried to bring his hips up to grind himself into Light, but Light held him down. He was in control- exactly how L liked it.

Light knew exactly what L liked, and exactly what he needed.

He bit down sharply on L's collar bone, sliding two fingers into L's mouth, getting them nice and wet before bringing them to the younger man's tight entrance.

Light teased his opening with one finger, not allowing L to slide onto them.

He wanted to hear L ask for it.

He leaned forward and licked the shell of L's ear. "Tell me," he said, "tell me exactly what you want, and I'll give it to you."

L moaned brokenly; he was past ready for Light. He was aching to have the man inside of him.

"Please," L begged, "Just fucking put them in, please. I need it." His brow was furrowed and he was looking pleadingly up into Light's face, but his cock was rock hard. "This is all I've thought about for such a long time. Just fucking give it to me."

Light smiled, and gripped L's leg, before slipping both fingers in and tapping his prostate.

L's eyes widened, and he moaned loudly. By now, the vacuuming had stopped- Light was not particularly sure when, nor did he care.

Let the fuckers hear exactly what they were doing; he doubted anyone else would be getting anything this good.

After all, not only did he know what buttons to push to drive L to insanity, but experience had gifted him with the carnal knowledge of just how long, and in what way to push them.

After stretching L, he slid his fingers out, and was met with an impatient sigh. L was just as ready to fuck as he was.

Light spit roughly in his palm and began to work it up his rigid length. When he thought he'd be covered enough for it to be comfortable for L, he lined himself up.

"L," Light started. His voice was sex roughened; it sounded as if he'd had to force every ounce of self-control he had into making himself stop. "I know we covered this before, but, are you still okay with going raw? I just want to make sure.." Light was breathing heavily through his nose, trying to reign himself in.

"Yeah- I mean, you showed me your test results, and this is exclusive." L paused, hesitating. "I trust you, okay? Go ahead."

Light's heart was warmed, but, with the okay, he slammed home.

They both groaned loudly, L was so tight and hot around Light's cock that he thought he might die. He waited until L urged him on, then began fucking him in earnest, his hard, heavy thrusts knocking the headboard into the wall loudly.

Light smirked internally at the thought of all the people in the hotel listening to the noises he was drawing from his partner, and the banging of the headboard? That was just the cherry on top.

He pulled out almost all the way, just leaving the head of his cock inside of L, teasing, rocking ever-so-slightly back and forth.

L responded by arching his back and rocking towards Light to take his entire cock.

Light liked that.

He grabbed the younger man's slim hips and began to pull him up, turning him around so that they were facing each other but also so he was still inside of him.

L looked slightly confused until Light picked him up and carried him over to the mirror.

It was large, covering the whole door of the small closet. He stood in front of it, arms full of L, and angled himself in such a way that they could both see.

L's limbs were wrapped around Light's neck and waist, and he could see the base of Light's cock where it joined his body.

Light watched L watch them as he slid all the way out of him, then all the way back in.

L's mouth formed a perfect 'o', and his eyes began to flutter.

Light adjusted his grip so he could continue fucking L with a hand in his hair- Light knew that tugging at that sexily mussed hair would bring his L close, so close to the edge.

He continued to slam in, out, in, out, deeper than L had ever even thought possible. "Yeah," Light's knowing smirk was audible, and it had a visible effect on L. He was trembling more than ever and his moans were more frequent. "That's it, isn't it? I know exactly what you need."

L was only capable of a tiny "mm" of affirmation. He watched Light address him in the mirror; hard, powerful tan against soft, slim ivory.

"Now," Light said with a voice full of sex and power, "I want you to cum for me. I want you to cum for me right now."

Light watched L watch himself fall apart in his arms; all fluttering eyes and quivering limbs. A pearly shot of cum hit Light's stomach, and then, only then did he cum, doubling his speed inside of L, pumping furiously until he found his release.

They watched themselves recover for a moment, and then Light carried L to the bed.

L motioned for Light to turn onto his stomach so he could rub his back, and sat astride him. His hands were incredibly soothing on Light's skin, and he couldn't help but smile at L's generosity- and, also, his once again bourgeoning erection.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Sorry that I missed a day, you guys- this may happen some, as I have a rather large course load currently. I want to thank you all for your lovely reviews and favorites, etc.- they are the driving force behind my writing. I also want to thank you for coping with my errors- this is my first time writing a real fanfiction for consumption by others, and you have all made it a wonderful experience. I'm thinking (hoping, praying) that as this goes on the quality of my writing will increase, so it should get better for you guys! Also, I'm going to make a soundcloud for music relating to the story world, as I've always loved it when authors do that- I'll provide a link or a name to search next chapter. Much love, asknotforwhom.**

Light and L lay in the center of the bed, supported by a mass of fluffed pillows. Their entangled limbs and sated expressions were clearly indicative of a comfortable post-coital atmosphere- not that anyone looking on would have needed those indicators. The sheets and blanket had been ripped off of the bed they were occupying, and piles of clothing littered the floor- or were folded neatly on the nearby desk. L had pressed his face into the warm hollow of Light's throat, and Light had wrapped his arms and a leg around L's slim body. A comfortable, sleepy silence had descended, and they'd both been more than happy to keep it, taking the opportunity to memorize the feeling of one another.

L tried to think of the last time he'd been that happy, that comfortable, with another human being.

He could not remember.

All of his other encounters- in the face of what he'd just experienced, he hesitated to even call them that- had been vague, childish, self-conscious fumblings; unsatisfying and disappointing- if not to both parties, at least to L. But this- this was what he'd wanted. He could comfortably say that Light knew him; with depth and precision, L had laid every inch of himself open to him once he'd determined that Light was- he hesitated to say "the one". It was very cliché, and it implied infantile obsession. Love, even. It wasn't that he couldn't feel those things; he just didn't want to feel them when they would have been unwelcome. Light was a busy, self-sufficient individual; he didn't seem to have any need for companionship, rather, it looked as if a vague inclination had led him to look for company.

L did not want to be a burden- not in any way. So, he decided to end his mental sentence with "the correct choice" rather than "the one". Much more appropriate, and decidedly less likely to crush Light under its meaning.

He looked at Light's face. Tan, perfectly proportioned, with a dimple, some freckles, and subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes for character. It was infinitely more satisfying to stare at Light's actual face rather than at his too-attractive pictures. Light looked down at him, catching him in his evaluation. He smiled and rolled them so that he was situated comfortably on top of L, looking down at him playfully.

"What would you be doing right now if I hadn't come to distract you?" Light asked from his perch up on L's knees.

L thought for a moment. "AP Literature and Composition- which is, honestly, completely useless for me. The woman is teaching absolutely nothing; more repetitive lecturing than anything. By the time I get back, it'll be time for fourth, which is AP Government for me- a good class with a great teacher."

Light nodded. "And what about after school? Didn't you mention being in some sort of production?"

L was surprised that he'd remembered; when he'd mentioned it to Light, he'd been very brief. His school was putting on a production of History Boys, a play- of course- about a group of high school boys trying to get into Oxford and Cambridge. He'd been given the lead, but wasn't massively pleased with those he was working with. Aside from two other people playing important characters, the actors were perpetually acting like idiot schoolchildren, disrupting rehearsals with constant jokes and questions. He supposed he shouldn't be too hard on them, though, as they were actually idiot schoolchildren.

"Yeah- I'll still be going to rehearsals for that this afternoon. I'll be out by the time you've landed back home, though."

Light groaned and pressed his face into L's pale neck.

"I don't want to leave. I wish that you didn't have any commitments, any restrictions. I'd be able to take you with me- bring you to my house, cook you dinner, ravish you in my foyer, all completely at my leisure."

L had imagined the same thing- over, and over, and over again. He'd given up on suppressing his hopes for a future with this man at some point, and he'd painted similar scenes in his head. He'd have loved to have been wrapped around Light on his couch while the older man read up on something for work. He'd have loved to stay the night with him- he often dreamt of being held while he slept.

"I want the same thing. More intensely than is appropriate." L looked at Light rather warily. He was so comfortable with Light, but he still hesitated to tell him exactly what he was feeling. He was not used to dealing with overriding emotions- at least not positive ones. Disappointment, fear, pain- those were relatively frequent in his household. But- the strange, quakey feeling in his chest? That was different. Very different, and it frightened him a bit.

Light would have to say those words first- those three massively important, life altering words just would not come out of his throat until there was enough evidence to support the theory that Light loved him too.

And, considering L's intensely pessimistic outlook, that would take nothing less than an outright declaration.

Light looked at L with a weighted expression he could not decipher, than kissed him on the head, hopping up to walk into the bathroom.

The man's ass was the only thing L processed during the entire minute and a half period Light was in there.

It was flawless. Perfectly shaped, supremely muscular, L knew exactly what he'd be grabbing onto next time Light came to visit.

Light came out to find L staring into the wall as if it had suddenly reared up and slapped him with a fish.

"L," he ventured curiously, "What's wrong?"

Wrong? _Wrong? _There could never, and would never, be anything wrong with that ass. "Absolutely nothing." L paused for a moment, managing to tear his eyes away from the wall only to find them stuck to Light's very appealing front side. "Did you know that you have a decidedly spectacular ass?" He asked in the same manner he had asked about the scones at Turandot's, and Light laughed, bemused.

"I have not been told that, no. At least not by anyone I pay attention to."

L was rather pleased by this, but his face remained neutral.

"Well, now you have." He looked at the bland clock hanging across from the rumpled bed he was occupying- it was almost one. L wished that he could go back to the beginning of their day; it had been so lovely, so stress free- aside from the worries about being caught. He knew that as soon as Light dropped him off, ugly, nasty reality would rear it's head again, confronting L with all sorts of cruel truths.

He had to smile, though, because he'd had this. Light had chosen to spend his time with L, not any of the other people he encountered on the site.

And their time had been... very, very fulfilling.

"Would you like to come back over here with me for a few minutes? It's almost time to leave." L crawled back up to the pillows and patted the space Light had vacated. Light slid into it and drew L into his arms, holding him in such a way that he could observe L's face. L had absolutely no idea how to read the expression gracing the other man's face.

He certainly wasn't angry- L had plenty of experience identifying that expression. He wasn't displaying any sort of irritation. Not sad, either- but there was something L could not name in Light's face and in the lines of his body.

Light chose that moment to smooth the thoughtful furrow on L's brow with his thumb, and kissed the spot slowly, delicately. He ran his hands up L's arms almost- reverently.

"If we leave now, I can run you through a drive through before I take you back- I'm sure you're hungry. Sound good?"

L thought that it sounded very good- he was starving after the morning's activities. He nodded and climbed out of Light's arms to collect his discarded clothing, sliding it on slowly, thinking all the while.

Why couldn't he identify the expression?

What was Light thinking about?

He buttoned his shirt, which was luckily only slightly wrinkled. His sweater, once pulled on, hid that completely. He pulled on his corduroys, too, but had to forgo the underwear- they still had a wet spot. He adjusted and prodded in the mirror until all evidence of Light's presence was erased from his person. It made him sad, the way he couldn't see evidence of the man's attentions in his mussed hair or slightly rumpled clothes.

He worried Light would be leaving with something rather important of his without leaving him anything at all.

He looked in the mirror again, and locked eyes with Light, who'd settled on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, just to watch L. When he saw that L was completely dressed, he stood, gathered his phone and the room keys, and placed his hand gently in the small of L's back to guide him from the room.

As the door shut behind them and they walked down the hallway towards the stairs that led to the back exit, they heard two womanly gasps and then furious whispers.

L guessed that the maids would have something to talk about for the next few months, and smiled deviously, not noticing the twin of his sardonic grin on his lover's face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: Over 1,500 views now! Wow- I really appreciate all of you guys being here, reading this thing I've written. It means a lot. The Soundcloud I mentioned last chapter is up and running- go search asknotforwhom on soundcloud to hear some of L's favorites and, later on, more music- I can't say much more than that without revealing things! :D Please review, even with criticism. As long as it is constructive, and not a flame, I would love to hear your ideas on how to improve; after all, I am here to entertain you guys. Enjoy! **Update** I had this formatted properly when it was posted- not sure what happened! Sorry, guys.**

L found himself in the lobby of his school, his facial expression trouble deciding between a frown and a shit-eating grin. Light was headed home, yes, but he'd told L that he'd text as soon as he landed, and he had also purchased him Taco Bell.

In addition, of course, to the fact that he had just had the most satisfying sex of his entire life, not to mention that the conversation preceding it was incredibly stimulating.

His face decided to smile, which was good, because the attendance woman had just sat back down in her little kiosk. He knew she'd just come back from lunch because she had taco sauce on her mouth and blouse. She wiped haphazardly at it before smiling broadly at L, gesturing him forward with all the warmth and familiarity he was afforded by all of the staff.

Lovely.

"Hey, hon- you gave me a note before you checked out, right?"

She gestured to the large, rumpled stack of notes precariously teetering on the corner of her desk. He assumed she did not want to sort through them.

"I did, ma'am. I had a doctor's appointment. I'm checking back in now for AP Government."

She had already begun to write him a note to class before he even finished explaining. Her large, blonde bouffant distracted L from the stains he'd been staring at for the remainder of the time it took for her to finish the note, and he took it with a generous smile and thanks.

"Awwh, aren't you just the sweetest thing? Always so polite. Go on now, honey- and feel better!"

His "appointment" had done a very, very good job of making him feel better. He smiled slightly and told her as much over his shoulder as he walked towards his class.

He ran through his list of things he required for his class as he went, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything in Light's rented car. He had both textbooks in his absurdly heavy bookbag- it weighed about half of what he did- which was currently slung across his back like some kind of obese, clingy toddler. He had pencils, and his homework. He groped vaguely at his pockets with the hand not occupied with the Taco Bell bag, and felt his cell phone. Good. Everything was in order.

He hooked the left into the wing that hosted the Government classroom, knocked politely on the door, and slipped inside. Luckily, they seemed to have been given some free time to work on a paper they'd been assigned, so his entrance was not too obtrusive. Everyone was using the time wisely, of course- they were all fanned out, talking about completely irrelevant issues in their various social circles.

Spectacular. He could already tell that his tolerance for idiocy after not having to deal with it for even a brief time was going to be rather low. His raised standards were going to be a pain.

He walked over to Mr. Ruvie's desk to hand him the note. The man was rather engrossed in that month's issue of the Atlantic Journal, but put it down, smiling, to talk to L.

"Some of your peers told me you had a doctor's appointment. Did it go okay? I'm assuming it was relating to all of your stomach issues."

L had been coping with incredible stress, pretty much completely derived from his home environment. It had affected his schoolwork and attendance, as well as his ability to eat. For an extended period of time, he'd been unable to eat without feeling incredibly nauseous, so he didn't eat much, and when he did, it was quick, junky nonsense that he could consume quickly. He found it easier to cope with the pain if it hit right away.

He_ had_ actually seen a doctor, though obviously not on that day. The doctor was a specialist, and seemed disturbingly intuitive. One of the first questions she'd asked, with a shrewd and rather pointed look at L's mother, who was hovering beside of the examination table L lay on, was if he was experiencing any notable familial stress.

Shit. People did not ask L questions like that.

Usually, he was able to gloss over his home life and blame his occasionally half finished or late work on some sort of pathetic forgetfulness. It was not true, of course. His mother would often refuse to allow him to do his homework when she was angry with him, by either hopping on the computer to browse her facebook or loading him with an enormous amount of household chores, such as doing everyone's laundry, doing all of the dishes, cooking dinner, scrubbing bathrooms and more, all while she would lay on the couch and watch documentaries on Netflix.

So, of course, he answered with a guarded, "No, ma'am, not more than is normal for a teenage male my age."

She raised an eyebrow and 'mhmm'd' skeptically. He thought Rem was a strange last name, and thought to ask the doctor what nationality she was before realizing that was rude. He quickly recovered.

"I do, however, have a rather large course load and a massive amount of college entrance related stress."

He looked at his mother, who had her lips pursed sharply, and clearly had much she wanted to say. She was not one to let L answer for himself.

"Well, erm, Dr. Rem-" she looked interestedly at the doctor's name tag prior to continuing her interjection. L assumed his mother was attempting to determine if she'd heard of the woman before, or perhaps simply how to pronounce the rather foreign sounding name.

"He does actually have quite a bit of familial strife on him right now. But, definitely not because of me. His relationship with his father is, yanno, really tenuous and stressed. They don't speak often, but when they do, that man heaps on the abuse, let me tell you-"

L, at this point irritated beyond belief, cut her off. Yes, his father was an abusive piece of shit, but his mother was also abusive. No, not in the same way, not as directly, but the abuse was there.

L tried to understand. He recognized that their upbringings as the children of alcoholics had warped them rather severely, and tried to make allowances for that. He understood that they wouldn't really have any concept of what was and what wasn't acceptable as a parent, and he told himself that it was okay. In all honesty, he really didn't need them. He'd raised himself- and his younger sister, although distantly- on a steady diet of literary ideals. He was solidly disillusioned, completely lacking in any sort of childish idealism, before he hit 6th grade. He didn't expect much from his parents, really- he just wanted them to provide for his basic needs until he could get the fuck out and never have to see them again.

And therein lay the problem.

L's parents were absurdly vain, self-serving individuals, with no regard for the life they'd spawned so carelessly, aside, of course, from the benefits of having a relatively intelligent "trophy child" for dinner parties. When L asked for the things he needed, he was met with not only the word no, but also with a litany of terrible accompanying phrases. He heard "you don't deserve it", "why the fuck would I", and "you're so selfish" more than any encouraging words. And, when the encouragements did come, they were false- uttered only for the benefit of whatever audience his parents were pandering to.

But L was not one to burden others with his issues. He knew that was a direct result of his warped upbringing, but it was one he hoped would serve him well. He would never be so selfish as to force his troubles on another, he would never be so uncouth, so callous, as to bare the nasty, ugly story of his life to someone who had their own problems.

So he merely smiled a half smile and nodded.

"Yes. It was- I'd like to have all of my stomach issues sorted prior to leaving for college."

Mr. Ruvie nodded sagely.

"You'll do well there, L. As you have here- hopefully, by then, though, you'll have gotten your little memory issue all sorted out!"

He chuckled good naturedly, and L smiled a bland half smile while raging internally.

He hated, more than anything, having to pretend that he forgot.

"Well, I'll sit down now- might as well use the remainder of the period for something useful. Thank you, Mr. Ruvie."

L meandered through the desks, eventually finding his own in the left corner, comfortably lodged closest to the people who knew what they were talking about.

And, of course, fucking Aiber.

Who happened to be sitting in his seat.

L walked to his desk, the epitome of calm, and sat his bookbag down with one fluid motion that belied the weight he'd been carrying. The Taco Bell bag was clenched firmly in his hand, a talisman of the strength he derived from being around Light, someone who just got it, someone who had not and hopefully would not subject him to whatever this lunacy was called.

"Aiber," he began smoothly, "Would you mind giving me back my seat?"

Aiber turned, facing L with the shit eating grin that was supposed to be occupying L's own face. The people he'd been speaking to politely waited for him to continue, hanging on his every juvenile word.

"What's up, L? How'd your appointment go?" There was something sharp in Aiber's voice- the pause between phrases had been heavy, pregnant with insinuation and sarcasm. L did not like it. It gave him a strange, foreboding feeling in his already troubled stomach.

"Fine, Aiber. Relatively uneventful. Now, can I have my seat back? I'd like to eat prior to going to rehearsals."

Aiber slid out of his seat like a panther, grandly gesturing for L to take his place. L did, but Aiber did not move.

Instead, he leaned down to L's ear.

"You look different, L. I don't know if it's off, or if it's good, or whatever, but I'd like to. Very much so. Because," Aiber added in a silken whisper that made L want to draw his shoulders up protectively, "generally, I don't come back from my doctor feeling so nice."

L did not like this forced vulnerability. It was not the same as it was with Light- he'd chosen that, he'd sought that out. L never had and never would seek out this.

"Aiber. Again, it is not any of your business. Perhaps I am merely feeling some hope? I have had these stomach issues for quite some time, after all. To see light at the end of the tunnel is enough to make anyone feel different, I'd say."

Ha ha. L patted himself on the back mentally for a very well executed move.

Aiber however, grimaced, as if he'd suddenly had a lemon punched through his teeth. Pain and the sharp, irritating sting of citric acid in the bloodied areas.

Then he smiled winningly, nodded once, and turned to face those he'd been speaking with before he'd decided to harass L.

L made a small smile of his own, and began to eat his challupas, now slightly cool- the grease was less appealing this way, too, having had time to soak through the waxy paper.

He sighed.

Fucking Aiber.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Woo! Forty reviews! You guys warm my heart. Prepare for some more muddying of the waters in this chapter.**

L opened the door to the relatively warm grounds outside very shortly after the bell signaling the end of the day rang. He looked up, noting that it had remained as cloudless as it had been when Light dropped him back off- it had turned from a gray morning into a very picturesque spring day, all biases aside. He and two other students parted from the mass of students streaming from the building –two males, both filled to the brim with witless jokes and idiotic sayings- to walk to the theatre room for rehearsals. As the two beside him talked- of course, with a volume so high as to be incredibly offensive to L's ears- about the deterioration in quality and the lessening frequency of lunchroom fights, L wondered how close Light was to landing at home.

He'd crossed the large geometric swath of ground inspired by the AES to get to the squat brick building on the corner of campus that housed the black box, a smaller room that the theater instructor used for earlier rehearsals and classes. He opened the front door, smacking himself internally for holding the door for the two chatty young men behind him- he worried that they'd feel obligated to start some sort of pathetic conversation, possibly something relating to monster trucks, or perhaps the ladies on campus with the largest tits.

L held his breath as the two passed by him, praying that they wouldn't feel the need to speak to him. They didn't, luckily. They swept in, not attempting to hold the door for those behind them, not thanking L for having held the door- they didn't even do so much as to nod at him graciously.

Well, he supposed being completely ignored was less painful than carrying on a conversation about NASCAR.

He checked to make sure no one else was coming; he was always worried he'd accidentally let the door slam shut in someone's face. No one was, so he began down the hallway to the theatre class. About halfway down, the loud chatter became audible. The cast- all males- and the stage hands- predominately females- were strewn about the room in various little cliques, flirting loudly and without skill.

He looked at his watch. Fifteen more minutes of this before rehearsals would begin.

After they finally had begun, they passed in the same way- L irritably looking at his watch, trying to will the time away. They did manage to work a few classroom scenes and one of L's monologues before it was time to go. He rooted around in his pockets for his phone as he walked out, various members of cast and crew passing him as he did so. He was walking rather slowly, he supposed- he blamed it on the child-sized bag sitting on his back uncomfortably. He dialed his mother's number quickly. She took him to and from places; L did not like to drive, as it induced anxiety- however, even if he had, he had no car, and his course load would have not been manageable were he to take on that as well.

So he dialed.

It rang, and rang, and rang. Generally she picked up very late or not at all. This time she did, in fact, pick up.

"Hello?" Her voice was tinny and distracted. For an irrational moment, L worried that she was reading some email exposing his truancy. He gathered his wits. No one cared enough to do any such thing- plus, he was a good student. They were expected to skip occasionally with their stressful course loads. Even had they thought something was suspicious, they wouldn't have reported it.

"Hi, mom. Where are you? Rehearsals are over."

A pause. She had forgotten completely.

"Ahh, yes. I'm actually doing something right now, so our neighbor is coming to grab you. She should be there shortly."

Translation: she had forgotten, and didn't feel like coming, or had found something more important to do, so she was sending their kind hearted neighbor Susan to run after him.

L should have been used to the burning shame her behavior invoked in him, but he was not.

"Okay, then. Will you be home when I get there?"

Perhaps she'd be at work, still- he'd be able to breathe, maybe get a little work done, then.

"I'm not sure. Probably not. I'll text you- gotta go, mmkay? Love you sweetheart."

The click of the call ending coincided with the wave of revulsion that rose in L's throat. He did not understand how his mother could claim to love him- she really had no idea what that entailed. Love meant trust, sacrifice, willingness to cooperate and communicate, generosity of spirit- all things she lacked.

He sat down on one of the benches outside of the building and pulled out a book to read while he waited on his kind neighbor to get there.

Susan had moved in about five months ago- a jovial, middle aged dog lover, she had immediately bonded with L's family, delighting in the opportunity to act as a grandparent to L and his younger sister, Sayu, who was ten. She had them over for dinner several times a week, and they had her over occasionally as well, although she seemed to prefer to cook for them. She had a child of her own, and several adorable grandchildren, but they lived quite a while away. Sayu had taken to calling her "Su-maw" to highlight her status as honorary grandparent.

L had not bonded to her as strongly as Sayu had- it just wasn't in his nature to be that way most of the time- but he thought the woman to be kind and incredibly generous with her time and with her cooking.

Everyone else had already gone when L saw Susan's car coming around the curve; some dispersing to the student parking lot to drive themselves home and some having been picked up from outside of the squat building where L was sitting.

He smiled and waved somewhat absently at Susan before coming around to get into the passenger seat.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket at the same moment he realized there was someone else in the car.

He smiled, slightly embarrassed, at the man sitting in the place he'd intended to occupy, and slid into the back seat, shoving his book bag before him. It took up an entire seat of its own. He had a brief, humorous vision of himself buckling the absurdly large thing in.

Susan turned to smile warmly at him. She was wearing some comfortable clothing, and her short dark hair had a tiny dash of flour in it. She must have been cooking before she'd came.

"L, sweetheart, this is Teru, Teru Mikami. Remember how I said I was looking for someone to rent a room?"

L did not, but nodded politely anyway.

"Well, this is the candidate I choose from all the rest." She giggled slightly. "Teru is a professional golfer; he went to college here in the states and has come back to play. He's from Europe!"

Teru had turned to face him. L thought that the man had to be in his mid twenties- he had inky hair that curled rather nicely and a deep tan. Teru smiled and nodded to L.

"L, it's very nice to meet you- I've heard quite a bit about you from Susan here."

His accent was very light, but noticeable. L thought he understood why Susan had chosen him- even middle-aged women like to have something nice to look at.

"Hopefully it's all been good, ah, Teru."

L was not sure what level of familiarity was appropriate in this situation, or how the norms would differ based on the man's national origin.

"Please, all my friends call me Mikami. I don't remember why people started calling me by my last name, but it certainly stuck- that's generally just what I go by."

Teru, or Mikami, rather, smiled amicably, still looking at L intently. L did not have much to say to the man, so, he redirected the conversation back to Susan.

"Have you managed to get him to try any of your cooking yet? That casserole you cooked last week was spectacular- I'm sure he'd enjoy that."

Susan smiled brightly, clearly flattered and pleased by the suggestion. As she- finally- remembered that they were sitting in the parking lot of his school and turned the car on, Mikami turned around again.

"I cook too, L- I've actually been told I'm rather talented. Today or tomorrow I'll cook something really good for you guys- you can all come over. Only if you'd like, of course."

L thought it would be nice for everyone to get to know Susan's new- roommate, he guessed it'd be called, and so he politely nodded his affirmation.

There was more minimal conversation on the way home; L talked to Mikami about which golf courses he liked best in the area, as he'd just finished up the season playing with his school's golf team, and he spoke with Susan about which cookies Sayu would like best for next time they had dinner together.

When he finally got home, he checked his text message- it was from Light, and it was rather brief.

L smiled to himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: Sorry I'm a day late, I've just been having a bit of a rough time. I appreciate all of your continued love and support. You guys are honestly great, and give me hope that things will turn out okay. XOXOX**

_I'm home. Can I call you later? Or now? _

L could not peel the smile off of his face. He was so, so happy that the man wanted to talk to L so soon after he'd left.

And then he'd stopped smiling.

What if Light was calling to tell him that he had, despite appearances, been unsatisfied with him in person- be it because of the quality of conversation, sex, or his looks- and no longer was interested in seeing him?

The ugly stain of cynical pessimism had sat on his soul for almost as long as he could remember. The world had not been kind to L- people had not been kind to L- so he tried to be smart, always cautious, always on his guard.

If he didn't feel, things were infinitely easier to compartmentalize.

But he'd felt with Light- he felt _for _Light.

And now L was going to have to face the consequences. He knew it, and his face crumpled. He wanted to cry, but he wouldn't put that sort of pressure on Light.

L refused to be an irritation, even if he was going to be- dumped? Dropped? He didn't really know what to call it, as Light was not his "boyfriend". They had agreed to be exclusive, yes, but "boyfriend" was just not the right term for what Light was- or, depending on what Light had to say, probably had to say, had been- to L.

Besides, he could cry once he'd hung up.

No one was home to hear him.

He texted back a quick "okay, sure" and waited, muscles tense, waiting for the blow to come.

Waiting for the best thing that had ever happened to him to come to an end.

Waiting for the only good thing happening to him to suddenly stop.

Waiting for the only person he'd ever truly loved to leave him.

Even had Light not decided to end things with L, L would have never told him he loved him. To tell Light that he had those feelings for him would be the moral equivalent of shackling him to L with a heavy, soul-crushing chain. He would never, ever do anything that would make Light unhappy.

The phone, sitting beside him on his rumpled quilt, began to vibrate, moving slightly away from him with every pulse.

Once.

Twice.

Three times it rang.

L picked it up as if it were a bomb, and paused before answering to thank whatever god was listening for having given him something as beautiful and satisfying as what he'd had, even if it had only been for a short time.

He hit the little answer button with a raggedly chewed thumb, and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

L closed his eyes. He didn't know how he was going to be able to get on without Light, now that he'd had him.

If only he hadn't gone looking for something more, he wouldn't be facing crippling loss and disappointment now.

L thanked god again that he had.

"Hey, Light. How was your flight?"

L's voice was smooth enough to cover every trace of the furious self-loathing and sadness he was feeling.

He knew he should have tried harder, he should have been more-

"L."

Light's voice cut through the nastiness in his head as if it were nothing but mist.

"Yes, Light?"

In place of the rolling fear and pain that Light had silenced just a moment ago, a curious sort of numbness had descended.

The blow was coming, L knew it. He took a breath and decided that he needed to be at peace with it. It would be better for Light that way; if he were to cry while they were still on the phone he'd feel obligated to take it back and comfort him.

L would not be an obligation, so he bit his lip until it bled, the pain distracting him from the stinging in his eyes.

"L, I know this is very sudden. I do. This is certainly not what I expected. I've enjoyed our time together- in person and through text- more than I can express."

L closed his eyes.

"I love you."

L's eyes shot open of their own volition, still full of tears, but also full of shock, surprise, and- and-

Joy.

That was joy. Every muscle in his body trembled with the sort of energy that can only come from an affirmation of worth so strong as a declaration like that.

"I love you, L. I fucking love you."

Light's voice was shaky, even over the phone.

"Talk to me, L. I need some sort of reply."

L laughed softly. How do you reply to the one thing you wanted to hear most, dreamt about hearing, over and over, but never actually expected to happen in reality?

With the uncensored truth.

"I- I felt the same way. I just- I couldn't say it first. I was afraid that you would feel obligated to stay because of how I felt, and I couldn't. I couldn't put that on you."

There was a deep, solid block of silence.

When Light spoke, he spoke intently, with profound feeling.

"L. I want to know what you're feeling. Chances are, we're feeling the same thing. I want to know you completely. I want to know every in and out of your thought processes and feelings better than you do. I want to take care of you."

L could not reply, so he simply made a noise in his throat, sliding down to lay on his crumpled blanket.

"Do you love me?"

L's eyebrows drew together, and he gave a pained "yes". He loved Light so much it hurt.

"Then I am going to need you to trust me. You can trust me. I want to make you feel okay. I want you to feel okay with me."

Another small noise from L, this one a hiccup. Tears were streaming helplessly down L's face.

"I get the feeling that talking about this is difficult for you right now. How about we talk about your SAT instead, okay?"

L nodded and then realized Light could not hear him nod.

"Yeah. Okay, we can do that."

L could hear Light's smile through the phone.

"I need your username and password, mmkay? Give me that, and I'll do the rest. Do you need to take any subject tests this time around?"

L gave him the username and password, but as for the other- he knew how much those cost.

"No, not this time- maybe, uh, later."

Light was not going to let him evade.

"When you take them later, which ones will you want to take?"

L sighed and smiled.

Light said he'd wanted to help.

Maybe it would be okay just to let him help a little bit.

"Humanities, and I think Government."

L could hear the soft scratching of a pen on paper. L pictured Light, bent over the pad of paper at his desk, scribbling notes intently. Notes about him. It made him smile a small smile.

"Done. I'm going to get this handled tonight or tomorrow morning."

"Okay, you don't have to rush or anything. Please don't. I don't want to stress you out."

"L, the only thing about you that could even possibly stress me out is you not having the things that you need."

L was having trouble processing all of the feelings roaring in his body, battering him like violent waves.

He heard a car in the driveway.

"Light, I've got to go, okay? I hear a car."

"Okay. Text me as soon as you can.

There was a pause.

L broke it.

"Light?"

"Yes, L?"

"I love you too. More than I can possibly express with my words. I'll text you as soon as I can."

L could hear Light's smile in his soft goodbye, and hung up.

There were only a few more moments of silence before he heard the door slam open downstairs, and the loud steps and voices of the two people he lived with- mom and sister- filled the house, and his ears, rather unpleasantly.

He waited for the shout that would call him downstairs, and when it came, he went.

He tried to prepare himself, but failed.

This would be the worst part of his day.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I own nothing, again. This chapter doesn't have much physical abuse, but it is a little frightening. Just thought I should warn you guys. I love hearing from you, and am so glad to see that there are some new readers! Not quite as many as I'd hoped, but that's okay. I love you guys and your long reviews and all of the great things you bring to the table. If there isn't anyone in your life right now who treats you like you are valuable, who makes you feel okay, I just want you to know that you ARE valuable and you DESERVE to feel okay. If things aren't okay for you right now, I promise they will be. Why? Because you deserve it. Read and review. Much love- message me if you need anything. xoxoxox**

"L."

The voice calling his name was not soft, nor warm, nor inviting.

It was the voice of his mother.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath to collect himself, and walked downstairs before she could yell for him again. He descended the stairs to find her waiting at the bottom, impatiently tapping a foot. Her eyes were cold and had all of the hard, flat clarity of a polished stone. His sister, Sayu, stood beside her, a beacon of sameness. It was eerie, really, how alike the two were. Not necessarily in physical appearance, just in personality. L thought it strange that a ten year old girl could have internalized every characteristic his mother displayed- the charming false façade, the vast capacity for manipulation and cruelty, the desire to be in control- but Sayu had certainly done it. She'd learned well, and quickly, too.

As L reached the bottom of the staircase, the twin glares of his mother and sister pierced him, the intensity of one magnified and doubled by the other.

L already wanted to cry, but he wouldn't. Only about a year and a half less of the constant fear, the shame, the ceaseless and unending pain of existing under the pressure his mother provided.

He drew strength from the thought that Light loved him, and thought him valuable. Thought him worthy of his time.

"Yes, mom- how was your day?"

What had he done wrong this time?

A slight tightening around the mouth and a quick, cat-like flick around the living and dining areas told L that she hadn't found anything yet, but that she was looking.

L felt his heartbeat quicken, and his palms, already slightly moist, began to perspire more intensely.

His sister threw him a quick, cool, "Hey, L," before flouncing over to the couch and turning on the TV, deftly maneuvering to the red Netflix welcome screen.

L stood, completely still, on the last stair. He grabbed and released the carpet clothing the stair rhythmically, as one would slide prayer beads between their fingers. His hands itched to rise to his mouth so he could chew on an already ragged thumbnail.

His mother sat her things on the dining room table gracefully, and strode into the kitchen, her heels making a slight clicking noise as she surveyed the room.

L watched, with breath stalled in his throat.

She continued to move, continued to evaluate the kitchen, running her hands over the counters, the top of the fridge, opening the cabinet doors to make sure everything was properly stacked.

It was. L was certain. He'd done that last night.

Then she turned towards the sink.

Holy fucking shit.

He'd forgotten to put the few dirty dishes they'd used for dinner the previous night into the dishwasher, and his mother had noticed at the same time he had.

Her heels stopped making their clicking sound. She'd ceased all movement- her body was stationary in front of the sink. Her arms and neck were tense.

On the TV the introductory strains of Gossip Girl were playing.

His mother slowly turned towards him. Her face was deceptively impassive- a frightening dream carved out of marble.

"L," she started. Her voice was even yet filled with venom. L began to breathe again. He'd known, after all, what was coming. What was always coming. What he always needed to be prepared for, regardless of how good he'd been or what he felt or what he needed. This was the one sure thing- the one constant- in his life.

'No,' he thought, 'now I have Light, too.'

"I remember specifically telling you that these dishes needed to be done before I got home."

She had not. She never did. Last night, she'd lain on the couch while he'd vacuumed, swept, and cooked dinner.

After that, he'd been allowed to begin on his homework.

That morning, they'd spoken exactly three words to each other before his mother and sister left- "get up" she'd said, to which he'd replied "okay"- and none of them, obviously, had been related to doing the dishes that had been left by his sister and mother. None of them.

And yet, here L was, nodding, swallowing down the rage and hate it invoked in him.

It would be infinitely worse if he didn't.

"Why didn't you do them, L? Hmm?"

Oh, perhaps for the same reason that this always happened- being saddled with an infinite amount of responsibilities he hadn't been told about generally meant things didn't get done. Or, maybe just because he needed a short break. It was hard to run a household alone, especially when the household didn't feel like home.

L was exhausted, and was tired of being exhausted. And afraid. And hurt. L was tired of feeling those things, too. They made him feel ancient and decrepit; a being made out of a thousand layers of crepe paper, each blow- physical, verbal, or psychological- ripping large chunks of him away and casting them into the wind, never to be recovered.

Not for the first time, L wondered what it would be like to want to come home; to feel completely safe, welcomed. Loved.

"Well, mom, I just forgot about it- I'm sorry. I'll handle it now, okay?"

L made to walk past his mother to get to the sink. She grabbed his arm roughly, hard enough to bruise.

"No you didn't. You didn't. I know you, L. You're a liar. A liar, L. You were being lazy; you didn't feel like doing them, so you just didn't. You were just going to leave them for me to do after I got home after slaving away all day, working to support you and your sister. Don't you even care? Don't you recognize how much I do for you? I have given up my whole life, everything I could have wanted, to make a good life for you, so it is so incredibly selfish of you that you can't even help around the house the little bit I ask of you. It's disgusting. How do you even think you're going to make it out of here? Because you aren't- you aren't taking care of any of your responsibilities. You're just sitting here, being a drain on my financial resources and you don't even care enough to DO WHAT I ASK."

Her volume had increased progressively until she was screaming directly into L's face, the occasional fleck of spittle hitting him in the face. Her nails were digging into his flesh, and her eyes were no longer cool and flat, but rather were burning with a vast and fiery rage that L could not understand regardless of how hard he'd tried.

And how he'd tried.

She stood, looking into his face, waiting for a response so she could either continue to lecture or possibly disengage and retreat to the couch where she would wait for dinner.

L was unsure.

"I'm sorry. I really did forget. I'll do them right now, and I'll do my best not to forget again."

L wondered if this would be adequate.

Apparently it was, as the woman who was supposed to be his mother took the opportunity to look at him like he was the most disappointing, worthless piece of filth currently in existence. The silence between them extended for what felt like a tense and painfully drawn out eternity before she finally withdrew to take her place on the couch.

His sister, Sayu, made room and his mother adjusted so Sayu could slip up between her arms.

He could hear one of the titled gossip girls talking about the imminent spring party circuit, and how she needed a "hot date" of some kind.

He turned, silently, to the sink, filling it with lukewarm water. He scrubbed without any presence of mind, without any visible emotion at all.

He was still scrubbing when the tears began to stream down his deceptively impassive face.

He opened the dishwasher, put in a few dishes, and then continued scrubbing.

Scrubbing, washed dishes in dishwasher, more scrubbing.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in.

L knew it wouldn't be like this forever, knew that he could get out soon, but a year and a half seemed like eons. He didn't know how well he'd do with the wait- it was the worst it had ever been. She'd taken to hitting him sometimes, with her hands, or even with belts. He felt the house draining him of all positive emotions even as he drove down the street towards it.

It would be so much better if he could just tell someone. If someone knew, even if they couldn't do anything about it, he would feel so much better. Lighter. Less afraid.

And then he remembered that someone did know.

Light.

L closed his eyes and smiled a tiny, watery smile.

Light loved him and thought him valuable. Light wanted to spend time with him. Light did not want to hurt him.

Things would be okay eventually.

L shut the dishwasher, the last dishes having been put in along with the dishwashing agent, and turned the knob until it began to make the noise signaling the beginning of its wash cycle.

Light loved L, and wanted him to be okay.

Things would be okay eventually.

L put on dinner, and then retreated upstairs to his room to text Light.

His mother and sister did not notice his absence.

The next episode of Gossip Girl came on.


	13. Real Chapter 13

**Author's note: Hey you guys, thank you all for your support and reviews- I doubt I'll be doing that set number of reviews thing again; it didn't feel very fair to all of you regular reviewers. You guys are too sweet. Still, reviews are what drive me to write- hence the weekend update. You'll see another on Monday, unless a massive influx of reviews provokes me to write earlier. Love you all- hope you enjoy this chapter!**

"L!"

He had only been upstairs for fifteen minutes.

"L, sweetheart-"

Sweetheart. It was then that L knew someone must've come over. He exhaled a frustrated breath, sat down his homework, and stood to walk out of the door. As he did, he looked in the mirror- he looked pale, tired, and wan. A little puffy from crying, too. He pinched at his cheeks and his dark circles in a last ditch attempt to make himself look a little less horrendous.

"L, come down here!"

Her voice was still girly and full of false humor, but L could detect the sharp edge lurking beneath. There would be problems if he didn't come down and entertain. He took one last look at himself, straightened his rumpled white shirt, and tried to arrange his face into some reasonably pleasant expression.

As he walked down the stairs, he heard his mother chatting flirtatiously. He assumed it was with their new neighbor, Mikami. L didn't particularly mind- perhaps a man would distract her. Though, Mikami did look vaguely familiar- L thought he might have seen him somewhere before. Perhaps on the golf channel? The man did play professionally, after all.

L turned to walk down the remainder of the stairs, and in doing so, had a much better- or rather, worse- view of the dynamics between his mother and the neighbor.

She was leaning in, tossing her head back to laugh uproariously at everything the man said. Most likely to draw attention to her cleavage, which, it seemed she'd enhanced even further with an eye-popping push up bra. It seemed that today her silicone inserts were not enough.

As for the golfer, he was also laughing, but very, very uncomfortably. He recoiled at every blatant attempt to stroke his hand or bicep, and seemed to be politely looking for an out.

Filled with incredible shame, L stepped off of the last stair onto the carpets he'd just cleaned last night.

Mikami turned to L, his forced, dingy smile suddenly brightening. Had L been walking any faster, he might have stumbled. The man clearly bleached his teeth liberally.

"Hey, L, it's good to see you again so soon- I was just telling your mom that I'm cooking dinner tonight. Would you all like to come?"

L did not want to deal with people, not even a little bit, but his mother was skewering him with a look that promised trouble if he didn't go along. Oh well. He was at least pleased that he wouldn't have to cook.

"Ah, sure- we'd love to." He looked at his mother, who was attempting to surreptitiously adjust her tits for maximum impact. He then immediately made eye contact with Mikami and smiled in a desperate, embarrassed attempt to prevent him from noticing any more of her desperate behavior.

"Should we bring anything? Drinks, or a side dish?"

L knew he would have to cook it with his mother breathing over his shoulder, harassing him for making a less than perfect dish- she'd want to pass it off as her own in order to appear domestic, so, of course, anything less than perfect would be unacceptable. But at that moment, L would have done anything to get that man out of their house. He wasn't sure what his mother would do next, and he was too tired and emotionally drained to deal with the shame her behavior would surely incite.

As Mikami began to reply, L's phone buzzed once against his thigh, a reminder of the tiny space of sanity Light had brought into his life. L ran his fingers over the outline of his phone through his pocket, but didn't take it out. He'd answer after he was allowed to go back upstairs.

"Actually, you guys can come right on over; I'd love to have your help in the kitchen."

Mikami smiled, friendly and cheerful.

L wanted to cry- he had several hours of homework to do and someone to talk to. The last thing he wanted to do was be stuck in the kitchen with this man who was not Light and who did not know him at all, forced to make inane and completely useless conversation.

A cold arm draped itself over L's slim shoulders, and manicured nails tapped lightly against his arm.

"L and I would absolutely love to help you in the kitchen- I cook rather frequently, you know." She paused to look up at Mikami through heavily made up eyelashes. She then tacked on a quick "and L, L has a lot to learn. So yes, we'd love to. We'll be there in five minutes or so!"

He looked at L, smiled again, and nodded at his mother. "Alright," he said, already heading out of the door, "I look forward to it!"

The moment Mikami left, L's mother let out a girlish squeal and fled upstairs, presumably to find a more "appropriate" outfit.

More than likely, that would involve a very, very tiny dress.

L let out a groan.

Why his mother was incapable of seeing how horrific her behavior was, he'd never know. He certainly wouldn't be asking any time soon- he knew exactly what he'd get for his troubles.

Pain. Pain and stress and heartache.

So he wouldn't be asking.

He sat on the couch and waited for her to come back down. He could hear the urgent clattering of powder brushes and the rustling of clothing. The overpowering whirr of her hairdryer covered all noise for the three minutes after that.

And then she came back downstairs.

He'd been incorrect in his assumption that she would wear a dress, but not about the length of whatever she'd wear- she descended the stairs in a pair of micro mini shorts that would have frightened Daisy Duke, and an absurdly tight white tee shirt. It was long sleeve.

L presumed that she thought the sleeve length made the lack of covering elsewhere appropriate.

It most certainly did not.

He craned to look up behind her from his position on the couch, trying to find his mother's shadow. She was nowhere to be found.

"Where is Sayu? Isn't she coming?"

His mother waved a hand in a careless sort of gesture that she probably thought elegant.

"She's napping; we'll bring her something back. She's had a ton of homework these past few days- she needs her rest."

L suppressed the urge to blow up at her- what about his homework? What about his needs? He hadn't had restful sleep in over a year.

He chided himself with a reminder not to be selfish. His mother's concerns lay elsewhere, and he recognized the need to just accept that. Whining or complaining about it would only cause him more pain.

He nodded, gave a meek "okay", and then proceeded out the screen door and across the lawn separating their house from the neighbor's.

As he walked across the lawn, he quickly pulled out his phone and opened Light's message.

_I'm having some sort of gastro cuisine for dinner- it should be really interesting. What are you having? Hopefully something good- although it saddens me that it falls on you to cook all of the time, I'm glad to know you'll at least be eating delicious food. I have no doubt that you are as talented in the cooking department as you are everywhere else. xx _

L typed out a quick reply:

_Actually, we're eating at the neighbor's- the new tenant has offered to cook for us. My mother has already brought her tits out once to try and seduce him, so I'm trying to prepare for more humiliation here. Oh well- at least the food should be delicious. _

He'd crossed through the lawn at this point, and found himself in front of the door. He looked behind him and found his mother traversing across the lawn slowly, seemingly held back by her ridiculous shoe choice.

L closed his eyes again.

Just lovely.

He waited for her to shuffle onto the porch beside him before ringing the doorbell.

Dinner would be an interesting affair.


	14. Important Notice

Hi guys, this is in no way real. It is a work of FICTION, thus has no bearings on reality. Inspiration from real life may have been taken but these are fictional characters. I am no longer working on this fic. Feel free to adopt it.

Thanks,

Asknotforwhom


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